Delayed Gratification
by Emmy-loo
Summary: Wolf wasn't out looking for revenge, but he's not going to complain when Karma throws him a bone.


AN: Written originally for Flash Rider, on LiveJournal, for the prompt delayed gratification. The challenge is to write a story (with a plot!) in less than 1,000 words. (I'm counting this as my week 5 update even though I'm a day late and I wrote this a while ago...I've been without the internet for nearly a week now.) Tell me how you like it!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

"Go, go, go!" The command was shouted over the shrieking of the wind and whirring of the engine; the sound carried away by the storm.

Wolf heard it and took a deep breath. And then he jumped.

The first few seconds were as terrifying as they always were; the sense of falling and profound weightlessness enough to make his heart jump into his throat and make his stomach feel like it had been left behind. But then things evened out, and it wasn't that bad. At the right moment, he deployed his parachute and his rapid descent was suddenly more peaceful.

Wolf bent his knees as he landed and got ready to run. It was always a bit odd, the transition from air to land, but he pulled it off with no hitches. He could hear the light footfalls as his teammates landed. The wind would drown out any other sounds they might have made, but Wolf knew they hadn't. This was a mission that depended on stealth.

Removing the cumbersome parachuting gear took a few precious minutes, but it wasn't long before his team surrounded him, their darkly-painted faces expectant.

"You know what we're doing. The agent is likely captive somewhere on the third floor—if you find him, radio me straight away. This needs to be fast and quiet."

They all nodded and primed their weapons in silence. There was nothing else to say. Wolf nodded and they got into position noiselessly. The door opened without any protest—it wasn't even locked—and Wolf frowned. "Keep your eyes open. Either they're expecting us or they're gone."

He heard the mumbled agreements in his headset. "Bull, take the basement. Eagle, you're on the first floor; Snake on the second. I'll get the third. Just checks, all right? Find me as soon as you're able."

For a house situated in the middle of nowhere—the Amazon might have been beautiful, but it wasn't exactly commercialized—it was enormous. There was a grand staircase visible through the next room, and they headed that way. The house seemed eerily empty; almost haunted.

Wolf shook off the ridiculous thoughts and took the stairs quickly, gun brandished. The breathing of his teammates echoed in his ears, but he heard no disturbances. So the house was empty.

The floors seemed to get progressively smaller as they went up, like a pyramid or a tiered cake. The third floor only had two doors, each opposite the other and both closed. Wolf hesitated for a minute second and then took the door to the left, an old idiom about mazes for some reason flitting through his head. _When in doubt, always go left._

It helped that the door on the left was bolted from the outside. "I think I've found the agent. Report to the third floor. Wolf out." He ignored the reports that followed and took aim. He shot at the deadbolt, guarding his face from any spare scraps of metal that might have flown off.

Wolf kicked the door open with his heavy boot. The room he came across was bare—save for the agent strapped to the chair in the middle of it. Christ, he looked young. Barely older than 18. How young was Special Ops recruiting now?

He made his way toward the kid and behind him. The agent started grunting and Wolf frowned. "Give me a second, will you? I wouldn't call a gag among our highest priorities..."

But the moment his first hand was free, the kid ripped the tape off of his mouth. "Basement's rigged! If they gave me the right time, this whole place is going up in about a minute."

Wolf's heart stopped. He started speaking into his radio while tripping over his own hands in an effort to get the agent free. "Don't come up the third floor; get out of here! Basement is rigged to explode!"

The agent's other hand was free in a second, and the both of them moved to the feet. With four hands, it didn't take very long.

"Fifteen seconds!"

Wolf swore. "No time for the stairs!" He lifted his gun and took a shot at the window, cracking the glass. He shoved the agent through it, hoping the kid had enough sense to land correctly. With another deep breath, he dove out headfirst. He was barely out of the window when the explosion knocked him unconscious. He didn't feel himself hit the ground.

* * *

"We seem to do this a lot, don't we?" Eagle's voice was bored. "How does he always get the heroics?"

Someone snorted—probably Bull. "He does seem to go looking for them, doesn't he?"

"Excuse me," Wolf said; his voice weak, quiet and pathetic. "But I do _not_ go looking for heroics."

"Oh, you're awake now?" Snake's question sounded like he was hiding worry. Wolf was tempted to grin, but his face hurt.

He opened his eyes in a hospital room—not much of a surprise. "Yeah. What've I got?"

Snake snorted and started a list. "Third degree burns, a broken arm, some bruised ribs and a concussion. You got lucky."

Wolf smiled. "And the kid—agent, I mean?"

Eagle laughed outright. "I guess a little revenge was in order, huh, Wolf?"

Wolf furrowed his brow. "Not sure what you're talking about."

Something seemed to dawn on their faces. "Wait, you _didn't_ do that on purpose?"

"Yeah, I threw him out the window! That wasn't revenge, though. What are _you_ going on about?"

Snake and Eagle began to laugh. Bull just looked confused. Snake spoke up. "Wolf, that wasn't just any agent—that was Cub! And here we were, thinking that you had thrown him out the window to get some delayed revenge for that stunt he pulled back in Breacon Beacons."

Wolf started laughing, though it made his chest hurt. So there was justice in life after all.


End file.
